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Half way from some where, and all the way to nowhere, Tony is lost. The shorelines materialize and just as fast disappear in the fog. Tony is the guy in the bow of my boat and has no idea were lost, but I’m going to have him aid me in my worrying pretty quick.

We left in the dark this morning in a light rain with a thick full fog guided by two oversized flashlight beams and my crisp vivid memories of the point we would hunt ducks from. That all went well. We set blocks and we shot ducks. We picked up decoys and Tony comes up with the idea we should check the western shore of this lake for tomorrows duck hunt.

Im soaked. We got ducks. This lake will have ducks tomorrow. Im thinking lets call it a day. He badgers me some more. I tell him check the fuel tank. We have plenty of gas and some to spare. My first thought is to check for my compass because my gps was battery dead two days ago. Tony sez he doesn’t have one and mine I know is in the truck we should just head for.

This is where my common sense or my own intuition failed me.

I get badgered from the bow and he offers we don’t need a compass just hug the shore and head west. Once on the west shore we will just back track the shoreline. Nothing to it. Let’s go. We went.

We run ten miles of water by my watch with ghosted shores because of intermittent fog. Bays open up but we shoot straight across to the points and it feels as though were leap frogging to the western edge.

There were a few cabins next to the bay we started from. All these were closed up for the season in late September. Tony and I share the lake with some ducks and occasional seagull. Through our misty foggy recon we spot several small rafts of ducks and hit the shore to stretch and eat some bagged brunch. Im confidant were as far west as we can get.

I have hunted and fished this big lake many times over the years and I know with out a doubt were west of High island. I’m so sure were in the northwest corner of the lake I tell Tony I’m not hugging the shoreline all the way back. We will cut south of High Island and sweep through Landor’s point and save a lot of water time.

We fill the gas tank with the spare fuel. All the rucks are packed and Tony stacks the decoy bags to bench himself in for a nap as we motor back. Just off the southern tip of High Island is one massive white pine that’s blackened and charred by a lightning strike that I have never seen before, or I suddenly do not remember after all these years. My first inkling to turn around was right here, but I kept going.

My next stomach flip comes when I see into the haze several small islands scattered here and there. I cut the motor and let the following sea just push the boat. My stomach is telling my brain I have screwed up big time. Tony is more lost, than he has ever been lost.

I look at my watch, its only noon. Well it will be a long time before the sun sets. That’s a good thing. Nobody is going to be on this lake today or any day in the near future and that’s a bad thing. We ate all the food, but we could cook some duck. My mind wraps its self around the simple fact that the wind was out of the northwest and I need to end up in a bay very southeast of somewhere, where I am.

I follow the waves and keep the boat in the swells. When I hit High Island for sure a shiver runs up and around my guts. Running by watch for twenty minutes and what I think is Electric point rises from the lakes far southern shore. I cut the motor and glass with my binos. Faint but there, is a pink cabin and one lone electric pole. Tony’s not lost anymore.

The trout whisperer
 

Karl "Trout Whisperer" Seckinger is a respected JustNorth author and outdoor adventurer. His guide service, DuNord Guide Service, and the trout waters that he fishes in the Superior National Forest, are some of the most tightly guarded secrets among Trout enthusiasts in Minnesota and Wisconsin.

Contact Karl at 218 - 525 - 0442 or write to him at:

DuNord Guide Service - 6999 Culbertson Road, Two Harbors, Minnesota 55616

Learn more about DuNord Guide Service in the JustNorth MarketPlace.